The Council of Bellrung
by Tirnel
Summary: Another parody. A Continuation from Here in Lasagna


**The Council of Bell-rung**

PG

Summary: Another parody. Continuation from Here in Lasagna.

A/N: Again, some of the character's names are inspired by Lord of the Beans. This has some concepts I did not include in the previous. I owe much to the fellow fanfic writer for the awareness that Mirkwood is shaped like a fish on the map and to a Fox Trot comic for some of the inspiration. I hope you enjoy.

A/N2: If this don't make sense, read the first one….and then you shall be confused some more. ^ ^

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or…. . any of the other things used (I cannot spoil the surprise). Excerpts, the mangled pieces of them, are from the book FOTR and the movie.

Bell-rung and the others were silently seated as they awaited the ringbearer. Frodo saw Glorify and Groin. In a corner alone, Prancer was sitting, clad in his old travel worn clothes again. Bell-rung sat Frodough beside him after presenting him to the company. "Here, my friends, is the hobbit, Frodough son of Druggie." He then pointed out and named those whom Frodough had not met before. There was a younger dwarf at Groin's side: his son Giblet. Beside Glorify there were several other counselors of Elrond's household, of whom Eraser was top gun; and with him was Gallondoor, an elf from the Grey Havens who had come on an errand from Sedan the Carmaker. There was also a strange elf clad in green and brown, Leg-o-lamb, a messenger from his father, Strand-o-drool, the king of the Elves in Northern Lasagna. And seated a little apart was a tall man with a fair and noble face, dark-haired and grey-eyed, proud and stern of glance.

He stank of horse and appeared to be quite rich. He bore a horn tipped in silver and he gazed at Frodough and Billboard with sudden wonder. "Who is the creepy man staring at us?" asked Frodough.

"Here," said Bell-rung, "is Boredtotears, a man from the South. He arrived in the grey morning, and seeks for counsel. I have bidden him to bring a present for soon Mettare will be upon us."

Not all that was spoken and debated in the Council need now be told. Much was said and Billboard did not know how much longer he could keep his eyes open. Not to mention the fact that it was getting close to lunch time. Bell-rung was telling of the fall of New Men's Store and the last alliance.

"I remember well, the splendor of their advertisements."

"You remember?" said Frodough, speaking his thought aloud in astonishment. "But I thought," he stammered as Bell-rung turned towards him, "that the fall of Gilled Gallbladder was a long age ago."

"So it was indeed," Bell-rung answered, "but my memory reaches back even to the Old days."

Frodough pointed his finger at him and exclaimed, "You're super old then! Older than my uncle Billboard."

"Yes."

"Older than, than that old nasty creature Ahem!"

"Yes."

"Older than Grandpa!"

"Okay now, you're pushing it."

"Older than-"

"Enough!" shouted Grandpa.

Bell-rung continued his tale, "Eardill was my pops, born in a Gondolier before it sank. You gotta have your pops, but mine left me and my brother when we were little. My mother was Wingit, daughter of Diehard, son of Latrine of Doormat.

I beheld the last combat in the parking lot of McDonald's, where Gallbladder died, and Dill-pickle fell and his Narwhal broke beneath him; but Sour himself was overthrown, and Thistle-door took the onion ring from his hand with the horn from his father's arctic cetacean, and took it for his own."

At this the stranger, Boredtotears, broke in. "So that is what became of the ketchup packet!" he cried, "Thistle-door took it! That is tidings indeed!"

"Alas, yes," said Bell-rung, "Thistle-door took it, as should not have been. It should have been cast then into McDonald's grease nigh at hand where it was made."

Boredtotears stood up, tall and proud, before them. "Give me leave, Master Bell-rung," said he, "first to sat say more of Big Boar's BBQ; for verily from the land of Big Bore do I come. Few, I deem, know of our deeds, and therefore guess little of their peril, if we should fail at last.

Believe not in the land of Big Bore the ketchup of New Men's Store is spent, nor all its mayonnaise and mustard forgotten. My brother has some weird dreams very often. And once a dream came unto me. In that dream I thought the store I was in went dark and there was a growing line, but a far off an exit sign lingered, and out of it I heard a voice, remote but clear, crying:

_Seek for the line that is open:_

_In Rivet Dale it dwells;_

_There shall be presents given_

_Better than Toys R Us._

_There shall be shown a fried food_

_That Doom is near at hand,_

_For Thistle-door's Bane shall waken,_

_And the Half n Half forth shall stand._

Of these words we could understand little, and we spoke to our father, Dentures, Lord of Mine T-Shirt, wise in lore of Big Boar's BBQ. This only would he say, that I Love Ladies was of old the name among the Elves of a far northern dale, where Bell-rung and Halfelven dwelt, greatest of lore-masters."

"And here in the House of Bell-rung more shall be made clear to you," Said Ear-o-corn, standing up. He cast his laptop upon the table that stood before Bell-rung, on it was a picture. "Here is the line that is open!" he said.

"And who are you, and what have you to do with Mine T-Shirt?" asked Boredtotears, looking in wonder at the Rock Star in sparkly garments.

"He is Ear-o-corn, son of Ear-o-thorn," said Bell-rung, "and he is descended from many floors and fathers from Thistle-door Dill-pickle's son of Mine Little to be at this council. He his manager of the Diners in the North, few are left now of those kind."

"Then it belongs to you, and not me at all!" cried Frodough in amazement, springing to his feet, as if he expected the onion ring to be demanded at once.

"It does not belong to either of us," said Ear-o-corn; "but it has been ordained that you should hold it for a while."

"Bring out the onion ring, Frodough!" said Grandpa solemnly. "The time has come. Hold it up, and then Boredtotears will understand the remainder of the riddle."

There was a hush, and all turned their eyes on Frodough. He was shaken by a sudden shame and fear; and he felt a reluctance to reveal the onion ring, and a loathing of its touch. He wished he was far away. The onion ring crunched and its smell wafted in the breeze as he held it up before them in his trembling hand. He then set it down upon the table.

"There are but two courses," said Eraser, "to hide the onion ring forever; or to unmake it."

Giblet son of Groin stood up from his seat, "Then what are we waiting for?" He hefted his axe in his hand and swung it down onto the onion ring. The axe exploded upon hitting the onion ring, shattering into pieces as the dwarf was thrown backwards.

"It cannot be destroyed," said Bell-ring gravely, "so easily, Giblet son of Groin by any craft we here possess. It must be taken to the grease fryers of Mt McDonald's from whence it came. Only there can it be undone. One of you must do this." His eyes darted about the room.

"One does not simply walk into Mort's Chicken Extravaganza," said Boredtotears. "Its black gates are guarded by more than just bouncers. There are workers there that do not sleep. The great cameras are ever watchful. It is a humongous place, riddled with children and grease. The very air you breathe is a wonderful fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly."

Leg-o-lamb stood up in a rage, "Have you heard nothing Lord Bell-rung has said? The onion ring must be destroyed!"

Giblet stood up in opposition, "And I suppose you think you're the one to do it!"

"And if we fail," continued Boredtotears, "what then? What happens when sour takes back what is his?"

"I will be dead before I see the onion ring in the hands of an elf!" stated Giblet.

"I have more of a chance than a stumpy, hairy, smelly, dwarf!" retorted Leg-o-lamb, "Who can trust beings who live in dank dark caves that dragons foul up with their stink?"

"At least my home is not shaped like a fish!"

At this the others stood and started arguing amongst themselves. "Never trust an elf!" shouted Giblet above the crowd.

Frodough stood and shouted, "I will take it!" The arguing stopped and all turned eyes on him. "I will take the onion ring to Mort's Chicken Extravaganza…Though I do not know the way."

"I will help you bear this burden," said Grandpa, "Frodough Baggypants, as long as it is yours to bear."

Ear-o-corn stood and knelt before the Half n Half. "If by my Blue plate specials or my regular dishes I can help you, I will. You have my laptop."

"And you have my bow!" shouted Leg-o-lamb.

"And my axe!" followed Giblet.

Boredtotears stepped forward, "You carry the fate of us all little one. If this is indeed the will of the CEOs, than Big Boar's BBQ will see it done."

"Here!" a shout came from behind some bushes, followed by a small half n half by name of Sandwich HamnCheese. "Mr. Frodough's not going anywhere without me."

"No indeed," said an amused Bell-rung, "it is hardly possible to separate you two, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not."

"Oi! We're coming too!" shouted another voice. Two more half n halfs ran forward to join the group. "You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us," said Melon.

"Anyway," spoke Pipsqueak, "You need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest…thing."

"Well that rules you out, Pip," whispered Melon.

"Nine companions," said Bell-rung, "So be it, you shall be the Fellowship of the Onion Ring."

The companions stood heroically.

"Right," said Pipsqueak, "where are we going?"

The End

I hope this gave you a giggle and perhaps brightened your day.


End file.
